


The Candy Condition

by TheBarghestsNotebook



Series: Homemade with Love [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBarghestsNotebook/pseuds/TheBarghestsNotebook
Summary: The Reader helps a customer and, for the first time, actually learns his name.





	The Candy Condition

**Author's Note:**

> Something I came up with to help keep me entertained at work. Because restocking candy can only get you so far.

It was a day, to be honest. It was slower than normal for a Friday. It was already two and our after lunch rush had only been about ten customers. I had sent someone home, leaving us with only three people, and by three if things didn’t pick up I’d send home another.

“Hey, can I go on my half?” one of the crew asked me. I sent him on his way and went back to restocking the chocolate.

It was tedious work, at this point. There wasn’t much left to restock, and I was highly contemplating just removing all the product from the shelves to just clean the shelves themselves because I was getting tired of seeing crumbs and powdered sugar every where, but we always seemed to have just enough customers to keep those of us in front busy.

“Cassidy,” I threw over my shoulder, “mind making snow cone syrup?”

“Are we low?” she asked as she sent a customer on her way.

“I mean,” I leaned back to look at them. “We’ll probably need for it to happen at some point, and might as well do it now so night shift doesn’t get in a bind.”

“Yeah, sure. How many do we need?”

“Make some orange, rootbeer, blue raspberry, and….uh…fucking I don’t know, cherry and grape.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“No prob.”

She would be gone for at least thirty minutes with all of that, so I had some time to myself.

Which lasted all for like five minutes because, of course, another customer walked in.

“Hello!” I chimed cheerily, standing up.

“Hello,” the man responded. He leaned forward and started looking over our candies.

“Looking for something in particular?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a treat for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, has he been a good boy?”

The sentence left my mouth before I could stop it. My lips clamped shut and I could feel my face growing red. The man gave a chuckle, one that sent a tingle through my body and I knew the rest of this interaction was going to be ass because A) I just said an inappropriate joke to a complete stranger and fucking B), this stranger was attractive and that means my already flustered self wasn’t going to stop being flustered. Fuck. Me.

“Actually, yes,” the man say easily, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been thinking he’s earned himself a reward. He likes caramel, what would you suggest?”

It took me a few seconds of composing myself and I hopefully managed to get away with pretending that I was thinking. My jaw would be working over time to keep me from giggling like an idiot. I gave him the quick spcheel about our homemade caramel products and all that good stuff. We did some back and forth about what would be best, a joke about the “healthy” caramel apples was taken well, and we finally settled on just a plain pillow of caramel.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” I asked.

“Uh…no, no, that should be about it. Can I pay with card?”

“On one condition.”

“Oh?” the way he said it sent another tingle, but I was steeled for this condition. “And what is that?”

“If that is your dog sitting outside, I get to pet them.”

He looked back outside to the hound sitting patiently on the porch. He gave another chuckle. “You can pet her if she lets you.”

I did a small fist pump before taking his card. Card swipe, optional tip, signature, and receipt. Once it was all said and done, I moved out from behind the counter and followed him to his dog.

Stopping just short, I knelt and slowly reached out my hand. The dog looked at it and sniffed it. I waited for her to finish, not moving and waiting for her to show that she didn’t want it. When she didn’t move away, I moved forward and gently put my hand on her head. She turned slightly, but didn’t shake me off. I gave some soft pets and then moved to scratches when she showed interest.

“Oh, you like scrithces, don’t you?” I cooed at her. “Yeah, you love sricthes.” I reached up with my other hand. “I bet you like under the collar scritches. Yes, yes you do.”

I heard the man laugh again, “I have to admit, I’m surprised. She’s not much of a people person.”

“I’m honored,” the smile on my face was a legitimate one now, not just one I put on for customers and not the fucking nervous one I got around people that I acknowledged that I found them attractive. I fucking loved dogs. “What’s her name?”

“Myra.”

“Hello, Myra,” I coo, giving her more scratches.

“You know, it’s kind of rude that you know my dog’s name before you know mine.”

“Well, I’ve always like animals more than people,” I shrug standing up.

He held out his hand and I took it. His handshake was firm, but so was mine.

“I’m Ramsay.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ramsay,” I said before giving him my name. “But, you probably already knew that.”

“Yeah, your name tag gives it away.”

An awkward moment passed, one that he seemed to revel in.

“Well, I should probably get back to work.”

“Work, you mean standing behind the counter pretending like you’re doing something?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

We said our goodbyes, he whistled for his dog to follow him, and I watched him go.

When I got back and asked how things were, I managed to lie and say that my smile only came from petting a dog.


End file.
